


Love is a Foreign Country

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: Angst, Body Worship, M/M, Pining, Size Difference, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: No one could ever tell him what to do.





	Love is a Foreign Country

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MargaretKire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargaretKire/gifts).



> Written by [@themoonobserved](http://themoonobserved.tumblr.com/), who does not have an AO3 account.
> 
> Written for MargaretKire who asked for size difference, pining, and body worship. Please let me know if I've missed any tags.

_ “ _ _ Oh, no, not me I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment _

_ for I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you _

_ when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath, I'll be saying to myself _

_ Is that all there is, is that all there is?” _

 

No one could ever tell him what to do. He could remember exasperated foster parents crying out in frustration “Why don’t you ever  _ listen _ ?” 

John hated it. 

He wanted to tell them “It’s not that I don’t listen. I just don’t care.” He was young, so being selfish this didn’t phase him. Looking back on it now, as an adult, he couldn’t help but feel a little pity for that angry boy, who didn’t love anyone because he lacked the courage. 

Blake thought about this sometimes, especially when his rebel heart lashed out, desperate and wild. It would grasp for things he couldn’t understand; but he could do nothing but submit to its strange yearnings.

~

He had been sitting at the bar for a little over an hour when their eyes met. It was a dance John knew well. He had been picked up in bars many times: he preferred it.  It was easy to get rid of strangers, which he learned from his time in foster care. He didn’t know them and he didn’t want to. 

He also knew that some people might think this was cold. He didn’t care about that either. 

His friends from St. Swithins had called him a player before, egging him on. But it wasn’t about conquest. John knew that he was angry, that he couldn’t stand to put his own desires aside for other people.  It only caused trouble. A young man who he’d recently picked up, surprisingly for a second time, had told him that he didn’t know how to love. 

“But it was a good fuck, right?” he had responded. “I mean, you came back for more.” 

The kid had left in tears. 

_ Well, _ he thought.  _ That’s how it goes, you know? _

 

~

Right now, however, the look in this man’s eyes moved something in John he couldn’t explain. 

It was a knowing look, like a cat that got the canary.  I’ve been around the block, it said, and I’ve got your number.

The man took a sip of his drink, something clear and strong, slipped out of his seat and into the one next to Blake. 

“You look like you want to get out of here.”

John took a swallow of his beer and said, “I do.” 

“Alright.” He folded his arms on the bar, leaning on them. “But I’m new to the city, so…”

John looked him over, trying to decide if he was going to fuck him or not. He was terribly thin, and his hair was receding a little. He had a big nose, but John decided that he liked it. He also liked the way he was dressed, a white jacket and pants, with an old red bandana around his neck, and expensive looking tan leather shoes, which seemed to suit him one minute and clash the next.

He took another sip of beer and said “Are you asking if I know a place?” 

The man met his eyes and nodded, furtively. John wondered if he was from a place where being gay might not be 100% legal. For some reason he liked this as well. Even though he was afraid, the man in the white jacket was still here, still asking. John made up his mind.

“I do know a place.”

~

As the thin man pushed him up against the alley wall, John felt a thread of excitement. He hadn’t done this in a long time. It was thrilling, being here with a stranger, out in the open where anyone could see. It wasn’t that he was in the closet: if anyone asked he would tell them. But still, being discovered this way made him throb. He shoved his tongue into the thin man’s mouth, pulling him close by the front of his jacket. 

They kissed, wild and clumsy, lost in the moment to sensation. Between kissing and gasping for air, the man managed to whisper to him, breathless:  “I am Barsad.” 

“Good for you,” John replied, as he got down on his knees. “Get your cock out for me.”

Once Barsad freed it from his pants, John took it in his hand, stroking it for a moment, looking at it. It was bigger than he had expected, but nothing unusual. That said, the thin man had a beautiful cock. 

John looked up into his eyes, stroking the head of his dick and said “I like this.” Then he opened his mouth on the head, sucking softly at first, working his way down the shaft, in slow, languorous movements. Barsad moaned, swearing softly, braced against the wall. The headlights of passing cars slid down the alley, cutting through the shadows that obscured their pleasure.  

In these quick slices of light, John could see Barsad’s face, contorted in ecstasy. It surprised him how much this turned him on. He was overwhelmed with a need to please him, to worship every inch of his body.  In other words, to engulf him with pleasure. 

John loved giving head, he had ever since he was sixteen, when he and another boy had practiced on each other in a supply closet with the lights out. John remembered how that boy had chased him for months after, begging for more. 

His mouth and hands moved almost automatically to the task. Bringing Barsad to climax came only seconds later, the hot cum bursting into John’s mouth. He slurped it off the tip, watching a convulsing shudder run up his companion’s body.  He stood up, stretching his knee a little (he wasn’t sixteen anymore).

Grabbing Barsad by the arms, John looked into his face, and a feeling of more true intimacy than just the physical kindled between them. John was almost sent into a panic. Love and closeness terrified him or left him cold, only hurting people.  Barsad leaned in and kissed him, tasting himself on John’s lips. 

John thought it was hot and the kiss was enough to distract him. He spun Barsad around, so he fell hands first against the wall. “It’s my turn now.” John said, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the bottle of lube and small case of condoms he always carried.  He got himself ready as Barsad pulled down his pants. When that was done, he used his fingers to work Barsad open, fingering his ass gently, which was eased greatly by how recently the other man had cum. 

John listened to his moans, feeling smug. He felt strangely protective of this man, whoever he was. John enjoyed marshalling him to pleasure this way: he was at the mercy of these ministrations.  He pressed the head of his cock right against Barsad’s tight hole. “Are you ready?” John asked.

Barsad shot him a look over his shoulder.

“I’ve had bigger men than you.” 

John was almost taken aback. He was used to younger guys, who would flip their hair and call him daddy, coyly lying to say it was the biggest they’d ever had. They would never say anything like that to him. He playfully slapped Barsad’s ass, pushing into him roughly and quickly. The moan that escaped from Barsad cracked John’s smug little smile into a full on smirk. 

John thrust deeply into the other man’s tight, hot ass, every stroke pulling him closer to finishing. He pressed his whole body against Barsad, making deep, quick motions, driving himself into the ecstasy he could feel building. He slid his hand around Barsad’s hip, stroking his cock, which was already hard again. They clung tightly together, riding their rough and ecstatic waves as one.

As Barsad began to buck more wildly against him, moving to get the angle just right, John felt his balls tighten, his cock throbbing with both of their heart beats. His eyes rolled back as he came, the staccato jolts of pleasure rising and falling while Barsad writhed against him. With one final moan, he came for what felt like the second time and collapsed against the other man, the two of them leaning against the wall, panting and sweating. 

“Wow,” John said, out of breath. “That was-“

“I know. The best you’ve ever had.” His companion slid out from between him and the wall. 

John chuckled. “The best? Maybe. Crazy good, and the best in a long time. That’s for sure.”

“It’s the men you choose. They’re too young. Too pretty. It falls right into their lap. Good looking guys like you, when it’s a given…it’s too easy for you.”

John stared at him. He studied the other man’s face. Another set of headlights sliced through the darkness and revealed a steely look on Barsad’s face, angry and proud.  This could have fooled a lot of other people, but John could see the crack in his expression.

“You think you’re really ugly, huh? Is that why you do this?”

Barsad shot him a look. “Do what?”

John looked at him incredulously. “Do what? Fuck strangers from bars in alleys. You don’t know me. You don’t know who I could be.” 

Barsad raised his chin, looking down his nose at John. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I can handle.”  He turned to leave and a wave of regret washed over John Blake, the likes of which he had not felt in dog years. 

“Wait!” he called out. But it was already too late. The misty Gotham night swallowed Barsad. 

_ I worship you! I want you again!  _ His rogue heart called into the mists and cars and bars. 

_ Come back! _ cried the little rebel.

~

John had given up all hope of seeing the stranger again. He focused on his career.  A few months had passed since then, when all hell broke loose with Bane and Commissioner Gordon. Defending the police commissioner with a shotgun from armed anarchists wasn’t exactly what he had signed up for, but as he had told many a pretty young thing, he was always up for anything. 

Even then he tried to lose himself sometimes in sex but it was never the same. The men he brought home, or to the men’s room, or to a cheap motel all ran together. Names and faces drifted apart, with only a memory of trite passion that quickly flared and went out, no fuss, no muss. 

No heartbreak.

He couldn’t bring himself to fuck another man in the alley. The memories of Barsad were too much to bear. That electric touch, that crooked and knowing smile; these things haunted him. Futilely, he masturbated, cutting through the memories to get himself off, watching porn to try to push them away, and then agonizingly giving into them again once the numbness wore off.  

When he could sleep he had strange dreams. He felt lost and washed out, anxiety jackknifing through his body, wiring him for burn out. After confronting Bruce Wayne and fighting in an all out war for the city he felt pushed to the brink of collapse. He clung to the memories, just as they repulsed him. To him they were like a life vest, buoy-ing him above the chaos in an instant, the memory of that night needing no specific key to unlock. At any instant he was subject to them.

The constant hiding, the threat of death always looming was enough to drive anyone crazy, he thought. He wanted to believe he was going crazy, which to him was preferable to the alternative.

When he and the other officers were driven underground to fight, he stayed stoic. He thought of Barsad and wondered where he was. Who he was with. The look in his eyes said he had had plenty of men and he would have plenty more. John fought with jealousy over these imaginary lovers, these erotic phantoms, whose pleasure John could not help but imagine. 

Around this time is when Bane finally took them. 

~

Once, when he was being shuttled through the foster system, before landing in St. Swithin’s, John had lived with a terrible man. He would lock John in the closet for days, with no food or water. There was usually no warning for this, so John had learned to be quiet, and calculating in a hostage situation early on. This clear head had gotten him out of many situations and now, as he was led away from the other officers, John felt himself slipping into that calm, silent waiting. 

The men led him down a corridor and then another corridor, until they came to the end. There was a small stairway there and they hustled him  up it, onto a sort of mezzanine. The chamber it was in was huge, but he couldn’t see anyone.  Then, before he could ask any questions, they left him there, the large room echoing with the sound of water. 

“Hello.” 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was Bane, here in the flesh.  His large form had an arrogant swagger, the kind only a man capable of killing anyone in a room had.  The ragged breathing that issued from behind his mask sounded painful and labored. John wondered what he looked like under there, to wear such a device. You could see from his eyes that he had been handsome once. 

“Detective John Blake.” That odd accent, the hissing breath. The anarchist towered over him, his broad shoulders and rippling muscles truly awe-inspiring to look at. He was a tank of a man.  _ God, _ John thought.  _ So huge. _ In other circumstances, he might have been turned on by this behemoth presence. 

Bane walked around him, hands clasped behind his back, watching. John waited patiently for him to begin.

“Detective John Blake. Recently promoted, right hand of the dishonorable Jim Gordon. You are aware, of course, of his crimes against the people of Gotham?”

“You don’t give a shit about the people of Gotham. All you care about is your own agenda.” 

Bane chuckled. “You have spirit. I was told but I didn’t expect to see it so soon.” 

John swallowed and shut his mouth. He didn’t know why he had burst out that way. 

“I am you know. Aware.”

“Of course you are. I made all of Gotham… _ aware _ .” 

“Why have you brought me here? Why me out of all the others? If you are going to kill me just get it over with.” John raised his head, trying to look defiant. Bane saw this and took a large step towards him. Down on his knees with his hands bound and the huge man’s crotch right in his face. John could feel himself growing red.  Bane seemed to lean a little closer, putting his hand on John’s shoulder.

“I could have you right now if I chose. I learned those ways a long time ago. Prison is no place for a young man with a soft look you know.” John was now blushing furiously.  He had never been so angry in his life. 

“Just go ahead and try it you freak! I’ll show you a thing or two about fucking with me and the Gotham Police Force!”  John exploded. 

Bane took a step back. His eyes were smiling. “There’s that spirit again. No. I would not have you by force.  That is not what I want, or something that I practice.”

John scoffed “But still you threaten me. Some revolutionary.” 

For once the big man had nothing left to say. He gave the smaller man a dry look. “Enough of this.” He turned and opened the door to the stairwell, disappearing into it. John relaxed for a moment. He was thirsty and his wrists and shoulders ached. 

“Hello John.” 

The voice traveled through him like lightning, electrifying every nerve in his body. 

“Basard.” 

The other man approached him, clad in the clothes of a guerrilla soldier, but still wearing that same red bandana around his neck.  He carried a machine gun. John could see exhaustion etched into every line in his face. 

“So this is why you came to Gotham. I just thought you were some Islamic refugee, looking for a little hedonism.” 

Basard rolled his eyes. “I’m from Uzbekistan. We are secular and democratic. Americans always have such strange fantasies.” 

John swallowed. His throat was so dry. 

“Could I have some water?” he asked. Barsad observed him through suspicious eyes for a moment, before his face broke into a casual smile. “Of course,” he said.

He pulled the canteen from his belt and gently placed it to John’s lips. John tipped his head back and drank. The water was room temperature but still felt like a balm on his arid tongue and throat. He took a moment to look into Barsad’s eyes. They betrayed nothing. 

“Why did you bring me here?” John asked when the other man pulled the canteen away. 

“I-”

“He had become possessed by you.” Bane appeared, his massive frame filling the doorway. “It was all I could do to keep him focused. You are both very lucky this preoccupation did not hinder our progress.” 

Barsad looked away, embarrassed. John stared at him.  _ So he felt it too. _

Bane walked towards John, who was still bound and on his knees. He reached out his hand to touch John’s face. “And now...I will show you why I have brought you here.”

In a movement so quick, John could not have claimed to see it, Bane had  taken Barsad into his arms. John could see the huge bulge in Bane’s pants that Bane was now rubbing against Barsad’s ass, his strong hand massaging the other man’s cock. Almost without warning, Bane set his member free and began to stroke it. Automatically, Barsad turned, dropping to his knees to take the huge man’s prick into his mouth. 

John sat there watching, immobilized with shock.  The scene tore at his heart, but his arousal was undeniable and irresistible. He felt that he was being driven out of his mind with longing, watching Barsad’s soft mouth please that hulk of a man. He didn’t know who he was more jealous of. He wanted both of them so badly, he was aching. 

He heard Bane chuckle softly. “I can see in your eyes what you want Detective. But I will not give it  to you unless you ask for it.” John stared into his eyes, again, furious. But before his defiance took hold, he cried out, free from shame or resistance:

“Yes, please! I want you...I want you both.”

They both approached him. Bane took him by the shoulders and brought him to his feet. He undid John’s jeans and slid them down to his knees, followed by the briefs he was wearing underneath. John’s breathing quickened when he felt those big, rough fingers exploring the smooth skin on his ass, tracing a path towards the crack.

He cried out when felt the first finger penetrate him, not very deeply. He could feel the big man working it in and out of him, gently though, starting to drive him wild with anticipation. Barsad’s eyes were on them, while he stroked his cock, his gaze never leaving John’s face. 

When he was penetrated with the second finger, he moaned loudly, as Bane pushed his fingers deeper into John’s ass. The rhythm he started overwhelmed John, who pushed back, trying to take those fingers deeper into him. “Oh GOD!” he yelled.

He could hear Bane chuckling again, but it was even deeper this time, a guttural, horny sound. Suddenly, John could feel the spread of the huge man’s hand on his back, bending him over. His legs shook with anticipation: he had seen the man’s huge member, the head alone looking like it could fill his mouth. He felt the slick tip pushing against his hole, stretching it wider. And then with one thrust it was inside of him. 

John thought it was the biggest he’d ever had. The sensation of being stretched so wide was more than he could bear by itself, but being penetrated so deeply at the same time…!

He opened his eyes, unable to control his swearing and moaning. Barsad stood in front of him, his hard cock sticking out of his fly. Without a word John took it into his mouth sucking it with all of the fervor he had in him.  He worked the head, his hands still bound behind his back, while Bane continued his deep rhythmic thrusting.  How long had it been since he had tasted this man? How long had he been yearning for the feeling of Barsad’s skin, the smell of it, to savor all of those pleasures at once?

John took Barsad’s cock down his throat and felt the other man moving in and out, fucking his mouth. 

He took a moment to observe the craziness of the situation. John knew he was no angel, but this was the dirtiest, most wrong thing he had ever done. Still,  there was nothing he was going to do to stop it. 

He felt the hot sticky ejaculation in the back of his throat and came on Bane’s cock at once. His prick was so hard it felt like it might fall off. Barsad fell to his knees, panting. Now that they were face to face, they kissed passionately. John loved how uninhibited Barsad was, how he didn’t care about tasting his own cum and sweat in John’s mouth.

Barsad pulled away for a moment and said “That was even better than last time. Now I will return the favor.” He stood up, facing Bane. “Do it now.”

Without warning, the giant wrapped his arms around John’s wiry form, pulling him up, his cock still deep inside John’s ass. Bane gripped him with one arm, and threaded his arm under one of John’s legs, bringing his knee up. He then did this with the other arm, holding John up, spread eagled, while he continued to fuck him. 

Barsad bent down and began to suck John’s cock. His tongue was soft and so was his mouth. The hot wetness that enveloped his throbbing prick was more than John  could stand. 

He came again, harder than he had in his entire life. He felt completely uninhibited, as if nothing mattered, for the first time in years. Swept away in the moment, everything had ceased to exist: Commissioner Gordon, the Batman, Gotham, his need to keep himself apart from anyone who touched his heart. 

He fell back on the expanse of Bane’s chest as the huge man started to cum, thrusting into him harder and faster. Bane pulled John’s legs further apart, penetrating him deeper, making John scream as he came a second time. And even after that Bane did not stop. He was merciless, pushing John over the edge again and again, until his enormous cock was drained dry.

~

Later, John and Barsad were alone. Bane had left the two of them, barely saying a word. Barsad had watched him go, his eyes worshipping that massive form. John watched him do this, a jealousy so fierce twisting his stomach it was all he could do to keep from screaming. 

The second they were alone, Barsad turned and began to kiss him. He pulled John close, and the two of them made out like teenagers. John said “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even after all this time. I couldn’t.” Barsad looked into his eyes. 

“Do you love me?”

John swallowed. This was a question he hated being asked. “I...yes. No. I don’t know.” 

Barsad drew a large hunting knife from his belt. John tensed for a moment. Reality itself felt unstable to him right now. Barsad drew the knife across John’s bonds, freeing his hands. 

“If you love me, you will get out of here. Leave Gotham.”

John stared at him. “What?”

Barsad looked at him “One way or another, this city will be gone before tomorrow. Leave now, so you don’t die with it.” 

John paused for a moment, mustering his courage. “If I leave”, he began, “You come with me.”

Barsad let out a short sharp laugh. “I cannot. I must stay here. And fight. And die if it comes to that.”

“Then how can you ask me to do anything differently? Do you think I’m less of a soldier than you? That I wouldn’t die for this city? My city?”

John saw Barsad’s frustration rise. “No, you fool! I want you to leave. I want you to be safe. I cannot protect myself, only you. I can’t...I can’t protect him. But I can get you out of here.”

John looked at him, disgusted. “You think I would leave the men you brought with me here? Or all the men you have trapped in the sewers? Or all of the innocent people in Gotham that your...friend whose cock you suck plans to murder?”

Barsard’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Well you’re here, fucking both the people responsible for all of this, aren’t you?” Barsad shot back. 

John felt himself flush with rage. “How could you ever think I would love someone like you? Obsessed with some terrorist and his ideals, when you can’t even make the sacrifice yourself! What a hypocrite!” 

“Don’t talk about him like you know! You don’t know! I’ve seen him free whole villages, women and children from slavery! These things he does, it is for love.” 

“Love? How can you call mass murder love? I don’t know the first thing about love, but I know that what he does is not love.” 

Barsad looked away from him. 

“If you really cared for me, you wouldn’t ask me to leave you behind. You wouldn’t ask me to sacrifice you for myself. “ John said, tears standing in his eyes. Barsad stood silently for a moment. 

“I’ll still let you go. If you want to. Please. Please leave before-”

“Before what?” That strange muffled voice echoed out of the darkness. Bane had quietly returned and was listening to their exchange. 

“My lady has dismissed me for now. Barsad, it’s time to take the detective back to the others. They’ll be taken to the river soon.”   
  
Barsad looked taken aback. “But you said-”

“She has forbade it. You know in these matters there is nothing I can do to change her mind. He will be executed.”

John spat out a terse laugh. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

Bane glanced at him. “You came. Willingly and more than once, I might add. And now it is time for you to go.” 

“No! Please,” Barsad shouted. “Please you said we could spare him.  Please, let me speak with Talia-” 

Bane silenced him with a look.

“It’s as he said Barsad. You should not be immune to sacrifice. And the detective wants to die for his city. We should aid him in this admirable goal without delay. Gentlemen!” 

With that, two guards appeared, and dragged John away. He stared angrily at Barsad, feeling stung by the thoughts of how he had lost sleep, lost time, lost his heart, to this hypocrite. And still had. 

Before they dragged him away he managed to say “The answer is yes. If you want to know how I feel, the answer is yes.”

~

After the chaos on the bridge and in the streets, John walked home alone. He saw the chaos still reigning in Gotham. Corpses seemed to be slumped in every doorway and on every corner. John came to city hall as he walked, feeling detached, like he was floating away from the world. It was as if he was being carried away from everything he knew about himself on a breeze. A cop? A detective?  _ What a joke _ . 

Gotham was free from Bane and Batman now, but John felt that he would never be free of the consequence of the turbulent times he had barely lived through. 

And then he saw something that brought it all crashing down to earth: there on the sidewalk was Barsad’s mangled body. He had been shot in the chest with something big. There was a hole where his heart should have been, the inside of his torso raw and exposed like meat in a butcher’s window.

John felt his heart breaking, something he had done everything he could to avoid his whole lonely life. 

_ Stupid foo _ l, he thought.  _ Why not just come with me? Why be subject to the whims of others? Is that what love is supposed to be? _

Love had not saved Barsad and neither had Bane. 

What had he died for? Had he even known in the end?

If he had, John envied him that. 

_ What was that old song? How did it go?  _

_ “I stood there shivering ... and watched the whole world go up in flames _

_ And when it was all over I said to myself, is that all there is to a fire?” _

He felt tears choking him, threatening to burst from behind a dam that was decades old. 

_ Yes. That’s all there is. _


End file.
